


At The End Of His Rope

by usuallyherdragon (Celebrithil)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Don't copy to another site, For Want of a Nail, Gen, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:54:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22152841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celebrithil/pseuds/usuallyherdragon
Summary: Ford left some rope lying around in the portal room. This changes everything.
Relationships: Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Ford Pines/sleep
Comments: 6
Kudos: 140





	At The End Of His Rope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [apathetic_revenant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apathetic_revenant/gifts).



> WWTD secret Santa for apathetic_revenant, who gave several options to choose from because they’re cool like that. I went with a mix between “angst with a happy ending” and “platonic/family bonding”.

If the house was cold, the basement was even colder. Stan shivered as he followed his brother down the stairs. Down the rabbit hole seemed more accurate, though he couldn’t remember where that thought came from.

Seeing Ford again should have been great, wonderful even, but all Stan could feel beside the cold was a deep uneasy feeling. Was his brother ill? He certainly looked the part – bags under bloodshot eyes, a crossbow (a _crossbow_ , of all things!) and… “Have you come to steal my eyes,” really? Who said such a thing? And, more importantly, why? Add to that the fear of Stan being followed and maybe drugged and… either Ford was doing something extremely illegal, or someone was threatening him.

Or both, of course, that was also a possibility. Though, of course, given that it was Ford and not Stanley himself, “illegal” was probably short-hand for “really, I needed a permit for this? Why, I had no idea, officer – but here, look at how successful I am at life despite my terrible brother, surely a slight tendency to forgetfulness isn’t that big a deal when my own brother tried to sabotage me because I was getting ready to finally leave him behind so that he would stop riding my coattails and– “ aaaaaand maybe Stanley was getting off track here. Slightly. The point was… Wait, what was the point? Oh, yes. The point was that he knew his brother, and Ford was more likely to just forget he needed an authorisation for some science thing than doing illegal stuff on purpose, so it was a bit unlikely that he acted that way because he was leading an undercover fighting ring or something.

Which left someone threatening him.

Stan was looking forward to punch them in the face.

* * *

Despite his earlier claim to the contrary, there was _nothing_ he understood about the big looming shape before him. Clearly he’d been understanding things completely backwards.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t help his brother, of course - his brother who’d called him here, who said “please”, who needed him, his brother who wanted to see him again for the first time in ten years. Only what Ford wrote and what Ford meant obviously were very different things.

He wasn’t sure exactly how it had gotten to that point, but they were arguing again – and did he just mention his mullet? That didn’t matter. What mattered was that Ford made him think he needed him, even mentioned their shared dream of sailing around the world, and it turned up to be just a pretence to get him as far away from Ford as possible. Something about it didn’t make any sense, he knew somewhere in the back of his head, but he was too angry to care.

And then they were fighting over this stupid book, and he was falling, and it _hurt_ , and he wasn’t thinking at all anymore, just trying to hurt Ford back – had he just said he was sorry? - and then Ford was

falling

upwards.

Stan’s shoulder didn’t matter. His hurt over things that were said now or ten years ago didn’t matter. What mattered was his brother getting higher and higher, towards that ominous light. What mattered was that Stanley was going to lose his brother _again_ , and that again it would be his own damn fault.

What mattered was the coiled length of rope lying just near his foot.

He didn’t stop to think about it. His hands were taking hold of the rope almost of their own accord, and good thing there had already been some kind of looping knot on it, because he had already thrown the rope, his arms running on autopilot as the loop closed around Ford’s foot and he stopped, floating there like the worst balloon Stan had ever seen. His mind finally catching up to the situation, he took two steps sideways and _pulled_.

Ford wasn’t going upwards anymore. Ford was, in fact, getting downwards very rapidly now, towards him, and then all Stan could think about was that it was about to hurt a lot.

* * *

Ford crashing into him did, in fact, hurt quite a bit, but there was nothing broken, the weird lightshow had stopped when the creepy triangle powered down and, more importantly, Ford was right there, whole and unharmed.

He was also, Stan realised, hugging him and babbling thanks and apologies.

Could the day get any weirder? Tuned out that, yes, it could.

* * *

“So, let me get this straight,” Stan said, sitting in a chair in the kitchen. “A demon who’s called Bill and wants to destroy the world has been using you to do his dirty work for years, this portal thingy is bad news, and you can’t sleep or he’ll possess you. Am I missing something?”

“That’s about it, really,” Ford replied sheepishly. “Oh, and he could make a deal with just about anyone in their dreams and then possess them too, so if you see anyone with yellow eyes, assume it’s him.”

“Wait. Are you telling me that you made a deal with him? You just told me he tricked you!”

“ _He did!_ ” Ford shouted. “He tricked me _into making the deal_ , he pretended to be my _friend_ , did you think I’d just randomly make a deal with a demon for science??!”

“… I’m not going to answer that, but that’s not really what I was going for. He made a deal with you, bro. Deals have loopholes, we just have to find one here and _poof_! You’re free!”

Ford’s shoulders slumped. “I wish it were possible, but I don’t think it is. The deal was that he could take over my body when I’m asleep, from now until the end of time. Unless you know a way of stopping time, this is not happening.”

“That’s not how we need to think. It doesn’t have to be literal, does it? We could… I don’t know, wait for daylight saving time, it’s like time kinda stops existing!”

“It’s at the end of April, Stanley. We don’t have that long – besides, it’s happened already and didn’t make a difference.”

“Wait a minute,” Stan said. “Why don’t we have until April? What’s going to happen?”

Ford looked down before answering. “I don’t know. But we’re talking about a being who can possess me, finds pain funny, is angry at me.” He looked at Stan again. “Even if you could stay here and help me with this somehow, which you can’t because I _do_ need you to hide that journal, he’d just possess someone else and use them to get to me. Or to you.”

“I don’t care if he gets to me, Poindexter. Besides, he’d hardly be the first to try and I’m still right here,” Stan boasted, trying to lift his brother’s spirits. “But I still don’t see why we can’t get rid of your book. Wouldn’t that stop him just as much as hiding it? More, even? And I could stay there and help you instead of leaving you to deal with this alone.”

Ford sighed and put his head in his hands. “It would, I suppose, but it might also contain a clue for stopping him. It can’t stay anywhere near the portal, that’s too risky, but destroying it altogether might mean that a future opponent might be missing important information.”

Stan shifted on his seat to get a better look at his twin, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the low temperature. “What do you mean by “a future opponent”, Stanford?” When his brother avoided his eyes, he went on. “Ford, I am absolutely refusing to let you die because of a stupid demon with a stupider name. That’s not happening. Not now, not ever, so get used to it.” The wobbly smile on his brother’s face at the forceful words gave him all the encouragement he needed to continue. “So he can possess people by making a deal with them, right? Maybe we could wait until he does that and trap him somewhere?”

“Leaving aside the ethical problem this would pose,” Ford said dryly, “he could just flee the borrowed body at any time – and yes, I’ve looked into ways to stop him from doing this, but unicorn hair isn’t freely available around here, and I tried to exorcise him already.” He coughed a bit. “Stanley, you need to know… My death might actually be the best solution at this point.”

“We’ve already addressed that,” Stan said flatly. “I haven’t changed my mind in the last two minutes, and it won’t, so stop trying to make me. There has to be another way.” Ford looked doubtful, but didn’t argue, so Stan chose to count it as a win. “Maybe we can stop him from possessing people somehow? It sounds like he’s only been doing this for a few years, so something has to have changed to let him do that.” He brightened at the thought. “Maybe there’s just a weird artefact that got knocked down by a squirrel or something, and if we put it the right way again he’ll lose his powers, you know?”

Ford had, if anything, became even paler at his words, and his answering words were so low that Stan had to ask him to repeat himself.

“I summoned him,” he whispered again. “It’s all because of me.” He bowed his head, waiting for Stan’s condemning words.

“That,” said Stan slowly, “sounds a lot like your journal problem.”

“Uh?” was the intelligent response he got.

“You sound like an owl when you do that, Ford,” he said absentmindedly. “What I mean is – how does someone manage to summon a demon, exactly?”

“It, um, wasn’t very complicated, actually. I just read an ancient inscription I found in a cave and-“

“Exactly! If you found that inscription, then someone left it there! Someone who had also encountered Bill...”

“…and managed to ward him off, since it’s been so long since he managed to have any influence on our world,” Ford continued excitedly, buoyed by the possibility. “There were warnings not to summon him, so they probably left an indication for fighting him off…”

“…or protect yourself from him!” Stan finished, and almost fell from his chair when Ford tackled him into a hug, laughing.

“That could work! That could actually work! We need to leave right now – no, wait!” Ford let go of him and rushed into the living room, trying to find something in the mess and scattering papers everywhere in the process.

“Ford?”

“I’ve taken pictures of the writing and art in the caves, they’re here somewhere – ha!” He brandished a small folder of photographs. “We might have everything we need here, and if not we can go to the cave again and see if there’s anything else.”

Stan peered curiously at the pictures. A big triangle, reminiscent of the portal in the basement, surrounded by prostrated people, and something written in a strange alphabet below. The same triangle, angry, and the people fleeing before him. The triangle again, in a big circle with various symbols, amongst them a six-fingered hand.

“Which one did you use to summon him? The one with the weird writing?”

“Yes, it’s actually pretty easy to understand once you’ve cracked the code-“

“What’s that on the right?” Stan interrupted?

“Monsters and fleeing people?”

“No, to the right of the circle that’s been crossed.”

“I don’t know, I haven’t really paid attention to that part before… Wait a second.” Ford went back to the living room and came back with a magnifying glass. Stan promptly snatched it, waving off his brother’s protests.

“Looks like someone with his hand on fire… but crossed out.”

“What?” Ford started. “A fiery hand sounds just like how we sealed the deal, and if it’s crossed off… Let me see!” Stan obligingly passed him the lens back. “He’s… walking backwards?” He slumped again. “This isn’t very helpful.”

“Maybe you should still try it?” Stan suggested. “Or maybe that’s not walking that’s important.”

“Backwards,” Ford murmured. “Okay, I’m going to sound weird for a moment, but let me try something, will you?”

“…you’re going to read that inscription backwards, aren’t you?”

“Precisely!”

The resulting sounds were indeed nothing like Stan had ever heard, and he had to suppress a shout when he saw a ghost flame rapidly travel from his brother’s wrist to the tip of his fingers. He could have sworn he heard a muffled scream of rage when the flame disappeared entirely.

“That… that means it worked, right? The deal’s gone?” he asked.

“I’m quite certain it is,” Ford answered, before yawning. “We still need to find a way to stop him, but…”

“You need to sleep before you pass out. And so do I, to be honest. Do you have a couch or something I could crash on?”

“…if you don’t mind sharing? My bed’s a right mess and…” Ford hesitated for a second only before continuing, “…and I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

Stan smiled. “Well then, Poindexter, lead the way.”

The morning found them curled together under a pile of blankets, sleeping soundly for the first time in a very long time.

**Author's Note:**

> And then, of course, they use the Zodiac and ban Bill Cipher from that dimension.


End file.
